#idk how micro this is anymore

[bri-cheeses]

| May 3rd | Prompt: Illusion | Word Count: 953 | @rosekillermicrofic |

Evan was waiting. For who, he didn’t know, just that the letter he had received had told him to be in this spot as soon as the moon had reached its highest point.

He sighs, sitting down on the fountain ledge behind him. The water in the fountain trickles slowly, as if it’s forgotten how it used to work and is only a sad echo of what it used to be.

Kicking the grass beneath him, Evan thinks about how he’d gotten into this situation in the first place.

It had started with a white crow. Now, Evan isn’t one to follow vaguely unsettling birds for the heck of it; that’s more up his sister’s alley. But Evan, like everyone else, had been raised on the legends of crows appearing to various people and leading them to the most extraordinary, elusive circus in the entire world.

The circus was said to travel everywhere, but getting an invite was rare. So if you were lucky enough to have the crow appear to you, you followed it, knowing that once you reached your destination you would experience the best week of your life.

Not to mention that the circus was rumored to be magical, as well.

And so Evan had followed the crow into the forest on his family’s estate, watching as it weaved through the trees. Eventually he had stumbled upon a door carved into one of the trunks. Evan had had the feeling that the door wasn’t entirely real, but he had gone through it anyway.

And it had landed him in a small circus tent outfitted with a bed, clothes, and other necessities. Evan had immediately deduced that it would be where he was staying for the next week.

Then he had noticed a slip of paper on the stand next to the bed. And of course he had picked it up and looked at the directions written there, following them out of his small tent and into the night.

There had been a cobblestone path leading away from his quarters, winding through a dark field and into a small, quaint town. From there he had gone to the outskirts of the strangely empty village and found the fountain that had been drawn on the paper.

And now he was sitting there, waiting for… something.

He looks up at the moon just to have something to do. It’s full, or at least close to it, and its light illuminates his surroundings.

Evan sighs, scuffing a foot along the ground one more.

And that’s when the night explodes.

Not literally, of course, but the overall effect is similar to that of an explosion.

The moon begins to emit swirls of color that wrap around the courtyard, filling it with delightful shades of reds and purples and greens and every other color imaginable. The shades are all bright and playful, almost overwhelming in their radiance as they solidify into shapes of various sizes. Evan sees a swirl of fuchsia tangle with a light blue and turn into a circus tent. Beside it, a burst of tangerine forms a fully grown tree. Evan’s not sure, but he thinks there might be a yellow monkey swinging from it. He can’t say for certain, though, as his attention is being pulled in a new direction every other second.

A tightrope springs up from a flood of crimson, dragging Evan’s gaze to it. Then, on the opposite side of the clearing, a cloud of navy condenses into a wheel of knives. He can feel himself becoming dizzy as elephants and swords, ropes and stilts, and tigers, fires, hula hoops, and more are brought into existence all around him. And a vibrant circus is left behind as, one by one, the colors die off.

All of the colors but two.

A bright purple and green swirl around each other, winding faster and tighter as Evan watches a form take shape.

The boots are the first things clearly visible, electric purple and pointy. Then the legs form, along with the torso, all clad in a bright green suit. It’s perfectly tailored, decorated with purple trimmings that immediately catch the eye. The cape and gloves that come next are the same color, tying the entire outfit together. After that, a green hat pops into existence above the headless body, suspended in mid air.

And then finally, the head of the mystery person appears, a devilish grin and a pair of sparkling eyes fading into sight.

Evan’s taken aback by the boy now standing in front of him. He’s Evan's own age, with brown hair, captivating green eyes, and a cocky arrogance about him. And despite Evan’s best instincts, he’s instantly intrigued.

The boy makes a show of acting surprised to see Evan standing there, then sweeps his hat off of his head and bows. The grand gesture brings a slight smile to Evan’s lips.

“Barty Crouch Jr,” the boy introduces himself proudly, “ringmaster of this incredible circus.”

Wait. This is the ringmaster? Evan thought he’d be older. And far less charming, if he’s being honest

“Pleased to meet you,” Evan hedges, still slightly unsure about all these new happenings. After all, it’s not everyday that one experiences magic. Especially on a scale as large as this.

“No,” Barty says, his mouth curling even further into a wicked grin, “the pleasure is all mine.”

His gaze meets Evan’s eyes, causing him to shiver. There’s something to be said for being the focus of a magician—particularly one as bewitching as Barty is.

And somehow, surrounded by the most beautiful illusion he has ever seen, Evan gets the distinct feeling that this just might turn out to be the best week of his life.

[tenrose]

Romantasy is the new bit-lit

[jgracie]

CYN! My ex best friend (whit whom I hadn't talked since a year ago [lot of drama I can't fully disclose or this post would be fucking long]) CONTACTED ME AGAIN and I genuinely don't know what to do 🙃

She said she has dreamed with me and that's why she's contacted me(?¿

And I feel she just wants closure, but she was the one to end our (6 year long) friendship

I'm losing my marbles, perhaps my bananas, I'm going wacky, I had already processed all this and now she's back! Are it the fates testing me?!

hi my love!!!! first of all i wanna start by saying however u choose to go about this you have to do because YOU want to not because you feel bad or pressured or anything. considering the fact that she was the one to end your friendship it’s kind of weird for her to want closure imo but 😭 idk her so i can’t say much on that!

now personally if i were in your situation i wouldn’t answer her at all 😣 she was the one who chose to end your friendship & so she chose any consequences that came w that. you did all the work and self care it takes to deal w losing a friend (trust i know how that feels you’re so strong and i’m so proud of you 😭🙏🏼) and in my opinion i wouldn’t be undoing all that hard work just because she contacted me again over a dream 😣 idk the details ab your drama but in general i do tend to avoid people who start drama often simply because it’s exhausting to deal w & if you feel like she’s the type to constantly instigate things for no good reason (had a friend like that last year & i cut him off because it was pulling our whole friend group apart and making me feel super guilty and stressed for no reason LOL) then i’d heavily suggest not to befriend her again because she could start something up again and cause you to go thru the same heartache you went thru a year ago

if you really want to reply, just make sure to still keep your guard up and not become completely vulnerable to whatever she may say!!! remember you have a right to end the convo whenever you want / whenever it makes you feel uncomfortable and you don’t owe her anything 🤍

take care, hope this helped!! 😚🫂

[fivefeetfangirl]

looking through the tags of the is prev a popular bog poll is very interesting cause almost everyone is saying yes, and then 'almost everyone i follow knows you' or smt like that. besties did we forget how this website works?? people literally starts following people because they see their mutuals interact with that blog. so people share a lot of the same mutuals and same circles

[donatellawritings]

idk what this but reader has a collection on panties and Rafe goes crazy for it.😶

rafe is such a loser when it comes to lingerie lol

you were not shy about showing off your body. you loved wearing obnoxiously mini micro-skirts and skin-tight low rise yoga pants, you especially loved the slight peek of the waistband of your panties that shined through. sometimes, you’d even allow the ridiculously thin band of your thong to sit a bit higher on your waist. you felt a light need to show off your underwear, mainly due to just how expensive the flimsy fabrics were. rafe didn’t mind swiping his card, if it kept you dolled up and content, he was also secure enough with himself to where a swell of pride who burst in his chest whenever you’d bend over and your lace panties would come into view.

dressed in your plush robe, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you struggled to choose which pair of panties you would wear for the day ahead. your wispy eyelash-clad doe eyes widened at the wide array of thongs and panties that filled the shelf of your dresser. you loved accessorizing and contrary to popular belief, your selection of underwear was, in fact, an accessory. with a defeated sigh, you licked over your pouty lips, “papi, can you help me with something?” you called out, huffing with a frustrated pout as rafe’s heavy footsteps grew closer and closer to you.

acknowledging you with a chaste kiss to your temple, rafe snakes a toned arm around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder as his gaze followed yours, “y’having trouble picking one?” he questioned, earning a nod from you as you wordlessly pulled away from him, taking a seat at your makeup cluttered vanity, mentally checking out of the frustrating, yet feeble task. rafe was quick to scan the nearly full drawer, the wide array of pinks, lace, and silk underwear causing him to swallow thickly — he needed to see you in every single one. “what about this one, mama?” he held up a baby pink thong with black lace trimmings.

with an annoyed roll of your eyes, you shrugged, “i already wore those, papi — i don’t even want to go out anymore,” you whined, tears of frustration glazing over your usually bright eyes. there goes your spoiled little girl peeking through. “nothing in there looks pretty,” you continued your rant, your words falling deaf to rafe’s ears as he sifted through the drawer, licking over his dry lips as the varying underwear, his mind focused on how he’d push the expensive panties to the side as he fucked you.

rafe’s bright blues widened as his finger hooked into the baby pink a white thong that was adorned with an embroidered pink ‘R’. completely dismissive of your whiny rant, rafe dropped the dainty material atop of your vanity, “put that on, then show me how it looks — m’gonna be doing some work in the office,” he spoke sternly, lightly nudging your chin with his finger, silencing you as you parted your swollen lips to speak. truthfully, rafe didn’t have any important duties to tend to, he simply needed to get away from you before you could see his already tenting hard-on.

you were quick to comply, allowing your robe to carelessly pool on the polished hardwood floor as you stepped into the thin material, gently sliding the thin waistband to sit comfortably on your hips as you your plump lips expanded into a knowing smile at the sight of the baby pink ‘R’ that was sewn into the thong, covering your pussy. your stomach turned with a blushing embarrassment at how giddy the panty made you. crossing your arms over you fully exposed breasts, you scurried out of your bedroom. rafe’s harsh typing pattern can be heard throughout the hallway as your pranced into his office.

rafe raised his head from his laptop with a stoic expression written on his handsome face as he watched you stand awkwardly on your tippy toes, your arms concealing your supple breasts, “don’t do that shy shit, mama — i’ve seen it before,” he sighed — running hand over his shaven face as he laid back in his leather chair, spreading his legs as he shifted his hips. catching just how shy and coy you were being, rafe shut his laptop, pushing it to the far side of his desk.

he’d be damned if you felt anything less than his pretty girl.

“c’mere,” he huffed, his eyebrows furrowed as you walked towards him, your arms remained crossed over the swells of your chest, a slight smile prodding at your swollen lips as rafe gently grabs ahold of your arms, pulling them away from your chest, “there y’go — y’so fuckin’ pretty,” rafe ogles shamelessly, earning a ticklish laugh from you as he pressed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your tummy, causing your hands to softly cradle his head. rafe continued kissing your abdomen, his lips stretching into a knowing smirk as you threw your head back, sighing as rafe brought his lips to the thin strap of your waistband, tugging on it with his sharp teeth.

allowing the strap to snap back against the skin of your hip, a shocked squeak left your swollen lips as rafe’s eyes became hooded, his pupils dilating as he pulled away from you, “get on the desk, keep your legs open,” your doe eyes flickered with confusion as you quickly complied, keeping your shy gaze on rafe as you walked towards the desk, a soft gasp leaving your lips at the feeling of the cold and sturdy wood biting at your plush skin of your ass. with a shaky breath, you leaned back on your forearms, keeping your legs spread as your feet dangled off of the edge of the desk.

“those pretty fuckin’ panties — gonna keep ‘em on while i fuck you, mama,” rafe sighed, his eyes handing now as you lick over your swollen lips, humming sweetly as rafe unbuttons his slacks, pulling his briefs down just enough to free his hard cock, “y’already fucking ruined ‘em, so fuckin’ wet already,” he adds, rubbing his swollen tip up and down against the dampened spot of your panty, pressing his tip against your clothed hole, eliciting a desperate moan from you.

“papi, please fu—” you whined, biting down into your bottom lip as rafe waved a silencing hand, before pulling your panty to the side, his eyes greedily drinking in the slick glisten of your wet folds and puffy clit.

sliding his thick cock into you, with ease, rafe leaned down, one of his arms flexed as he held himself up on the desk, while his free-hand cradled your head, pushing your forehead flush against his. rafe couldn’t help but smile at the way your doe eyes stared dreamily at the way his hips rolled against yours, your lips parted as you struggled to get any words out, aside from a few gritted moans.

parting his lips as means to mock you, rafe’s eyes gazed into yours as he watched you fail to say anything coherent, the sound of your soppy pussy squelching pathetically with each lewd thrust, leaving you a cock-drunk mess, “c’mon, mama — spit it out,” rafe teased, nodding as you simply blinked at him.

swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you wrapped your arms around rafe’s warm neck, whimpering into his collarbone.

“can’t even fuckin’ talk, huh?” rafe chuckled, a low groan leaving his pink lips as he brings his arm around your back, relishing in your sweet moans and whines as he fucked his hips into you, “i know, mama, let it out,” he cooed, his thrusts remaining quick and firm as you cried into his chest, your wet pussy squishing and squelching as you sucked in a sharp breath.

“hmph! s’too sensitive, papi,” you shuddered, pulling your head away from rafe’s neck, your jaw slack open as you stared down at your conjoined hips, your wet eyelashes batting as your watched rafe’s pelvis grow sticky and shiny from your creamy wetness.

pushing your head to lean back against his chest, rafe’s thrusts became hard and deep, earning a high-pitched yelp from you as his hips harshly slapped into yours, “y’can fuckin’ take it, baby — fuck, be a good girl and take it.”

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

(An Aventurine/reader one shot, short and sweet, established relationship, mildly suggestive at the end if you squint, trying to get back into writing real stuff after a year so idk about the quality)

It was methodical. The tapping, the way his fingers thrumbed rhythmically on the table, one after the other, how his rings would sometimes catch the light as he did. What an odd thing to notice...

Aventurine was mindlessly tapping the bar top as he watched you with eyes like blades, slicing deep into you. Not harshly of course, as if he could ever look at you harshly... But intense all the same.

That ever-present smile was more strained than usual. Another odd thing to notice, really, especially when you were supposed to be avoiding looking at him, eyes trying to find anything else to focus on.

"Hello, friend."

It made you tense, that infliction... It sent the nerves under your skin into a frenzy, unsure whether to flee or fight, really wanting nothing more than to just disappear. He didn't seem keen on letting you off the hook, though.

"Don't give me that look. I'll almost believe you don't wanna see me."

He teased, sliding into the barstool next to you, his arm brushing yours, making you suppress the urge to jerk away.

He'd been singling you out ever since he noticed your active avoidance, you could tell. The last few days, the amount of time you've 'accidentally' run into each other in public... You cringed slightly at the thought, it wasn't coincidence.

He huffed at your silence, rolling his pretty eyes as he gestured for the server to make you another of whatever drink had been long forgotten in front of you, condensation pooling on the table.

"Actually, I was just leaving—"

The words died in your throat as he put his hand under your chin, tilting your head up with a teasing little smile. It was almost like his face softened when he held yours, his smile a bit more genuine than that strained mess you've seen the last few days.

"Oh don't be like that, darling. This one's on me after all. I miss that pretty face of yours." He tilted his head, blonde hair falling over his eyes as he looked at yours, as if analyzing every little feature. Once satisfied, he let go, humming happily, leaving you utterly confused and a little flushed, as much as you were trying to stay cold and unreadable. An air of silence settled for a moment, and only a moment.

"You've been avoiding me."

He spoke thoughtfully, just as playful as it was accusatory.

"I... I haven't—"

Still not keen on letting you finish a sentence, he cut you off.

"Now now, don't go lying to me. A good relationship is built on trust." He chided, almost scolding. His hand settled on the back of your head, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as he went back to analyzing your every little micro expression.

"I've been busy." You finally spoke, the tone not having the bite you would have liked.

"...You're still upset."

He sighed, arms falling away completely as he opted to rest his head on his hand, almost pouting.

"Come on, darling, work with me..."

That was said more to himself as his eyes strayed, his pout becoming more prominent.

It was true you were upset. Livid even. Another one of his little gambles, life threatening as usual, ended with a nasty little gash right at the base of his neck. It was healing nicely at least, probably wouldn't even leave a trace, but the implication remained. Something sharp enough to cut was pressed right up against his jugular, tearing into that pristine skin of his.

His composure was faltering slightly at your silence, lips twitching into a notable frown as he shifted slightly, trying to get ever closer. You finally couldn't ignore him anymore when his arms snaked around your waist, head moving to rest on your shoulder as he looked up at you through his eyelashes.

"I'm sorry..." He practically whispered against your skin, his breath ghosting on your neck, making you shiver involuntarily.

"I know you don't like when I do things like that... You know I can't help it."

It was truly in his nature, you knew that... He had nothing to lose but his own life for so long, a meager sum in his own eyes, and it was... difficult, for him to rewire his brain to accept his life was something actually cherished by another. The purely devotional look he gave wasn't lost on you. A look that asked, kindly, for understanding, through a plea that would have died in his throat if he even thought about manifesting it.

Punishing him hardly seemed fair, but for him to still be so stubborn...

You gently brushed a few of the stray hairs out of his face, and he absentmindedly leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering.

"I know. I still don't like it." You spoke quietly, bluntly, but there were only so many ways to phrase the fact you'd rather him not greet death so openly, so familiarly.

"I've missed you..." He spoke back after a moment.

Your avoidance had left a pain much more pronounced than the little cut on his neck. An unpleasant reminder of where his weaknesses really lay. You didn't say it back, but it was obviously true.

"...I know."

He smiled slightly at that, leaning up till eye level to steal a quick kiss, his lips just grazing yours for a moment, hands on the back of your chair as his body leaned over yours. He was all of about two inches from being on top of you and showing a fair bit of restraint for someone denied of their lover touch for so long.

"Want to go back to my hotel room, darling? I'd like to make it up to you." He mumbled with a grin, close enough for you to smell his cologne, a certain palatable need in his voice. Whether it was just for your touch, away from prying eyes, or for something more than that, was left hanging in the two inches of air between you.

You hesitated, but nodded, and as soon as you did, he laced his fingers with yours, palm to palm, a certain intimacy in that action alone.

He tossed a few bills on the counter without glancing at the amount as he pulled you straight out the door, happily really to indulge in what he'd been so longing for, with the silent promise that he wouldn't let this event repeated itself.

[m00nsbaby]

You think you can write some Steven angst. So basically reader and steven love each other very much and are exclusive. But one day reader sees the body with a women and is so sad. But they try to forgot about it and be happy with him. But their friends send photos of the body with other women( could be Layla or random idk which ever hurts more.) Reader starts to distance themselves. Not cuddle as much, pulling away, saying they busy. But reader comes to the apartment because they live together. And the body is in the bed with a women. And you can write what happens next. Whether steven knows about the other two or has no clue.

hurting steven? that's my cup of tea 😈

Ground control.

Steven Grant x reader.

Tags & warnings. Angst, cheating but not at all. ? Mentions of Marc Spector.

Word count. 2.4k

Summary.

Now I think we've lost it all, There's nothing to explain the distances anymore. All systems are critical, Can't find my way back to you. Feels like there's nowhere to go, I'm just out here waiting for you say; "Don't be afraid, no."

All the signs were there.

Being an avid fan of romantic dramas, you knew by heart the signs of infidelity, but you never counted on Steven Grant breaking every law of logic you had memorized before him and his presence in your life.

Someone who looked at you that way couldn't be lying to you.

"Where were you yesterday?" You extended your arms to him, and he immediately understood the message.

You always worked so well.

Steven hugged you, his entire weight pressing down on you, and you complained only about the pressure, not necessarily because you didn't like it. You laughed.

"I was at the museum, lovey. Why?"

"And after that?"

Still resting on top of you, he propped himself up on one arm so he could face you. He had that confused expression on his face that combined with his usual smile.

He genuinely seemed confused.

"I came home, why?"

You decided to drop the subject there, whether as a silly or rational choice. There was nothing wrong with both of you keeping certain things hidden, right? Maybe the girl he was with the day before was just a friend.

And even though logic told you that Steven Grant didn't have many friends, you pushed those thoughts out of your head when you kissed his lips.

"I love you." Your hands cradled his cheeks, and without him being aware, you analyzed his face, hoping to find some kind of micro-expression that would betray his lies.

His little eyes sparkled, his smile widened until those tiny wrinkles you loved so much formed. You could even swear he blushed at the intimacy of the situation, even after 6 months of living together.

He made you doubt your own judgment because even though your eyes had clearly registered what they had seen, when Steven looked at you like that, you were convinced.

He couldn't be lying.

You quickly forgot the issue, even when you came home early and didn't see him there, or when you felt him leave the bed in the early morning. You knew everyone around you thought you were foolish, but you always preferred to call it rational.

Would you forget the love of your life just because Steven had a female friend? Nah, that option was never on the table.

Unfortunately, your friends didn't forget as quickly as you did.

"Is this the girl from last time?"

Attached to the text message was a photo of Steven with the mysterious girl.

Your stomach churned.

"Are you crazy? Don't photograph my boyfriend like that! It's weird, hahaha."

The forced laughter was a way to cover up how suddenly hurt you felt.

Now, in the solitude of your apartment, you had the opportunity to look at the photo until your eyes hurt. Zooming in on the girl's face, her beautiful curly hair, and her deep brown eyes looking at Steven in a way that seemed disgustingly familiar to you.

Steven, on the other hand, had a barely visible face in the photo, and that was killing you. You would have loved to zoom in on his eyes and finally dispel the doubt about whether that tiny glint of brightness was there.

That would have confirmed or discarded any theories you might have had.

The sound of the door almost gave you a heart attack. You dropped your phone, which bounced on the floor as if you had thrown it on purpose.

"I'm home!" He always did that, and for as long as you could remember, it had brought a smile to your face.

Except now, of course. As if the damage wasn't enough, you stepped on your phone to hide it under your shoe.

"What are you doing here?" He entered, laughing, as carefree as ever.

As Steven as ever.

"I was…" You cleared your throat; suddenly, it felt like you were short of breath, but you smiled. It was foolish of you to assume that Steven hadn't noticed you were acting strangely.

When he approached to kiss you, you turned your face, and his lips landed on your cheek.

There was a citrusy scent on his clothes, completely opposite to your sweet perfumes.

Both of you faltered in your smiles; you couldn't stop thinking about his escapades between work, if he was even still going, and Steven trembled at the mere thought of your rejection.

Maybe you just weren't in the mood.

His theory was confirmed when you turned your back on him in bed.

Steven figured that the honeymoon period was over because he could swear you had been in a bad mood all week.

Not that it bothered him at all. He remembered quite clearly all the times he had promised you that he would never leave, no matter how tough things got, and he also remembered that you had done the same on multiple occasions.

And the truth was, this was nothing to him; something as small as this would never make him consider leaving you. If anything, it was more about the fact that he understood he had to work harder to be okay with you.

You were worth the effort, and besides, he really didn't know what had you acting this way; there could be a million reasons behind it, and probably any of them made sense.

"Look." It was the first thing he said when you entered the apartment.

He was there early, which was a good sign.

"I saw it on my way here." Your eyes focused on the bouquet of roses he held in his right hand and then offered to you along with his best smile.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and although you would have loved to hide your smile, it was impossible for you.

"It's beautiful, Steven." It had been a while since you alternated between his nicknames and his name. He had to confess that he didn't like not always being "my love," sometimes he was just "Steven," but he would deal with it.

Your smile was worth it; he saw you genuinely happy for once in what had been quite some time for both of you.

And although the kiss you gave him on the lips was very quick and short, he felt well rewarded for his small gesture.

Over time, the situation became difficult for him to deal with, and not precisely because Steven wasn't a patient man, but because panic could consume him quickly when it came to his self-esteem.

He was never shy about expressing how much he loved you, verbally, through actions, even in writing, so it shouldn't have been a surprise to you that your rejection meant constant blows to his heart.

He felt cold at night when you refused to hug him back or when you pushed him away slowly until he let go, you stopped welcoming him home with a kiss or rather stopped welcoming him at all, there were days when he would find you asleep when he arrived.

Regardless of whether the sun hadn't fully set yet.

You had also stopped responding to his "I love you." If he was lucky, maybe you would murmur a small "me too." Only if he was lucky.

"I finished another book." He tried to get your attention with a sad smile, and you looked at him over your laptop.

Turned out, Steven and you had this habit where your motivation to read was him. He finished books in days and made the silliest and funniest annotations anyone could imagine; you refused to read books involving Egyptian mythology if they hadn't passed through Steven's hands before.

"I don't think I have time these days." Lie. You had more time than you would like. "Maybe you can lend it to someone else."

Your boyfriend had a collection of similar comments that you had made before stored in his memory, and he wondered what he wasn't understanding.

Were you suspecting something about him?

Steven refused to believe it.

Why? Simply because it didn't make sense, not when his life revolved around his job, the apartment he shared with you, and you.

It would be bonkers to simply assume something like that.

"Just tell me what I'm doing wrong." He was almost sobbing as both of you had the argument of your lives.

You couldn't remember ever hearing Steven raise his voice before, and he couldn't recall ever hearing you so upset, specifically with him.

His questions were pushing you to the limit; he had such an incredible way of pretending he had no idea what was going on that you felt like you were about to explode. You didn't have the strength to tell him in your own words what you knew was happening. The least you hoped for was that Steven would be brave enough to tell you he was having an affair.

"It's her, Steven!" You broke down; your hands were rubbing your face desperately.

And he didn't understand, of course he didn't.

His lower lip trembled in a pout.

"Who, love?" His broken voice made you tremble in your place. "What are you talking about? Just tell me, and we'll figure out how to fix it."

And the cycle repeated itself. You didn't have the strength to refute Steven when he seemed so bewildered by your questions.

That night, you slept in his arms for the first time in a long while, and everything felt like trying to connect two puzzle pieces that didn't fit together. Both stressed, in pain, and with tears in your eyes, wondering how to fix this.

How could you deal with the love you had for him while each day he found new ways to break your heart?

Everything exploded on an ordinary Wednesday as you were returning from work.

When you noticed that the apartment door wasn't locked, you swallowed hard, expecting the worst. What if you walked in and all your stuff had disappeared? Neither you nor Steven were in a position to take extra shifts.

You mustered up the courage and took a step inside, better now than never. You chose to be silent, just in case someone was still inside, and you had to make a quick escape.

Of course, within seconds, the sounds coming from your shared bedroom immediately shattered any theories involving burglars or anything similar. However, this situation somehow turned your stomach even more.

Your hand trembled, your whole body trembled.

Before entering the bedroom, you already knew what you would find, and yet you had to verify it with your own eyes because in your mind, you still believed that your Steven would never be capable of doing something like this to you.

But there he was, still wearing the clothes he had left in that morning, on top of the mysterious girl, the one with beautiful curly hair and chocolate eyes that you could even identify as 'precious.'

"Steven!?" You screamed, finally pulling him out.

"Fuck." It was the only thing he could mumble as he got up from bed.

Had it been stupid on Marc's part to do something like this? Definitely, but the thing was, this game of the two lives was beginning to get out of control. There came a point where he couldn't keep lying to Layla about where he was staying.

You should have noticed that your things were hidden when you arrived.

The framed photographs were facing downward.

"You're the… biggest fucking idiot." you muttered as best you could, tears overflowing from your eyes to the point where neither of them was visible to you. Your legs threatened to give way as you turned to leave.

Marc followed you with the intention of giving you an explanation, even with a deeply confused Layla behind him.

What he didn't account for was that the stress of the moment would cause an immediate switch with Steven. He was there as always, protecting him from an emotional blow while he destroyed Steven's life.

He stumbled to his knees, but his hand still clung to your arm, partly for stability and partly to try to keep you from leaving, because when it came to you, his body reacted automatically.

"Let go of me!"

You couldn't see it, but he was constantly blinking, trying to adjust to the room's light. He felt nauseous as his body tried to understand that he wasn't in the museum as he had believed for a while.

"Love?" He stammered, confused, and you pulled your arm away again. "What are you doing?"

It didn't take him long to understand, though. His disheveled clothes, his racing heart, and Layla's confused gaze behind both of you seeming to be on the verge of exploding.

"Marc?" Her voice made him tense even more. Why did it sound so familiar? "Who is she? What's going on?"

You ignored him because at that moment, you managed to break free of his grip. He was basically chasing you, and it was pushing you to your limits.

"I don't want to see you." You mumbled, quickly grabbing your belongings, money, your cell phone, your charger.

Yes, that one was shared with Steven.

"You don't understand, love, I didn't…" He could barely form coherent sentences; he was only sure that he didn't want to let you go.

And yes, even with the scene you were causing, he followed you out of the apartment.

"I don't get it, I don't know what… It's… I don't know what happened." He sounded terrified, and you wondered to what extent he would keep this facade up.

"Please let me go," you said with a trembling voice as your free hand pushed open the building door. "Steven, you're hurting me." You had wanted to say those words for months.

Only then was he able to loosen his grip.

"Don't look for me, please, I beg you, let me be alone." You managed to put together that sentence without looking at him. Maybe you would regret it if you saw that pained expression again.

He let you go with a horrible headache, feeling like he was about to faint. He sat at the foot of the stairs, both hands covering his face, and his tense body suffering uncontrollable spasms from crying."

Steven didn't stop looking for you, even though a physical encounter became impossible when no one told him where you were staying.

You had to change your phone number when your phone wouldn't stop ringing as soon as you turned it on. Millions of calls and millions of text messages.

Of those, only one caught your attention.

"I'm sick, I finally understand."

And underneath, another message.

"Can we talk? I can explain everything, love, please."

You deleted it along with the rest, and after turning off the phone, you placed it face down in the drawer that had become its permanent home.

Mk's tag list :)

@ninebluehearts @icreatedthisat317am @onefinnedwonder-fm @shousha133

[yamsgarden]

looong Tales of Symphonia and Tales of Vesperia rambling incoming:

I was chatting with my buddy about Tales of Vesperia and Tales of Symphonia and idk by what miracle this could ever happen, but I truly wish someday Bandai Namco could make a TRUE remake of Tales of Symphonia but with Tales of Vesperia's cel shade graphics

Because so far, all "remakes" are just more or less good ports from what I read/ saw? And TOV still holds up to this day, even 20+ years after even if the animation is a liiiittle stiff it' still works, but yeah TOS could really have a fantstic revamp

I want her so bad to experiement this journey too, but I totally get it that the graphics are a turn off... Which is also so sad because to me they still feel cute and I grew up with them OTL

idk... I understand TOS isn't necessarily the most insane RPG out there, same with Baten Kaitos but they have their own identity and amazing writting and complex stories and charming characters aaa even 20+ years later and I still hold these games in my heart and still listen to their OST, it really feels like magic

It's not like today where you have to constantly play daily for grinding or worry about being tempted to buy micro items in the shop with real money, it was a one time payment and one shot story and had an end... And that's what made it great too imo... if that makes sense, idk what I'm saying anymore, I guess I just miss so much how things used to be haha

Where games had more soul and personnality and passion behind it and ofc you still have that today but i feel it's... Rarer and back then I feel it was still experimental but that's what made it so great, now there are so many copy cats and it feels like a race to which one can be the next lottery... and I know they're all companies BUT LIKE at least I could feel my money was well spent you know?!

Now it's feels like, "we have your money AND you have shitty rushed half-baked product, you're welcome"

If only Llyod could have made it into Super Smash Bros Melee at the time, I feel it could have helped the Tales of popularity even more OTL I remember reading somewhere he was considered to be added to the roaster but maybe it was rumors too... But the thought of it is so cool. I rly don't think it's for nothing TOV and TOS keep getting so high in popularity polls when it comes to general Tales Of games, those two are really memroable and beautiful.

TOS almost feels like the blueprint for TOV to me, so they are very similar but different enough as well. I must have played TOS on my gamecube at least 10 times in my whole life and everytime my gameplay reaches 60h-80h+hours, it's just so much fun everytime

aaa but yeah.. all that to say I just wish it could get the remake of a lifetime so more poeple could experiment it too OTL I don't think it'll ever happen but yeah.... If only if only if only...

and lowkey so i would have more poeple to talk and gush about it.

[michelleelizabethtanner]

Hey! I was on my third reread of Kingmaker by HonoriayPaz and I found your comment threads to be so delightful, I reread the series just to read your comments on the chapters again lol.

I was wondering if you knew where I could follow HonoriayPaz outside of ao3? And also could you please send me the reddit it link to her analysis of Rio? I’d love to read it. Thanks!

Omg, I get unhinged about this fic! In many ways because I feel like it’s SUCH a hidden gem. I enjoy being gutted by the authors I read, and this author does such a delicate job of slowly undoing me pice by piece. For anyone who enjoys literary analysis as a hobby, this is a treasure trove. This author makes these matter-of-fact everyday tragedies out of these extremely visual and relatable circumstances in the ways she writes them. 19 yo Chris and how he had no choice but to become Rio. The complexity she brought to a circumstance that canon tried to show us but that made no sense there. She made it make sense. Le Celebrant – forever obsessed. The restless, possessive way Rio stalks that party, feeling proud but also out of place. Because he MADE himself out of place in that environment. He is who he is, and while he wants the softness of family (and slowly kills Rhea’s spirit as he fools himself and her into thinking he can be that man), he ultimately won’t give up who he is and who he’s been. The addition of Monae as his counterpart in this story is so tragic and heavy. Everything she represents – the loss of childhood, his origin story, what could have been, the power of their connection… I don’t know if this is a story that’ll ever be finished, but it almost doesn’t need to be. The study of Rio as a complex character is worth it. Who he could have been in a different universe.

Sorry to ramble. I get excited. I actually don’t know that HonoriayPaz has a large social media footprint. At least I haven’t seen it. She mentioned in her author notes that she doesn’t have nor want a tumblr. She’s on Reddit, but idk about in the GG subreddit anymore. A lot of people have moved on.

Here is the link to her Reddit post. Sounds like getting this out was what inspired the fic? Idk, but I remember reading it initially as a “unique” perspective, because I hadn’t even considered that this wasn’t unique at all and that I was (am still in ways I don’t even recognize) actively participating in a lot of the toxicity, and turning a blind eye to everyday, casual white supremacy in myself and others. In all the ways I was able to recognize Dean’s casual misogyny and Beth’s marginalization at his hands, I wasn’t able to recognize the micro and macro aggressions of the show and the fandom, and especially my own culpability in it, against marginalized groups that are voiced in this post and its comments. HonoriayPaz did a lot of the work for me and others when she didn’t have to, and took a lot of backlash when she hadn’t earned it. There aren’t many voices like hers in the fandom, probably because they’re shouted down and it’s exhausting and also probably dangerous because who knows what someone’s privilege and fragility will do. But she’s a talented writer and I always go back to both her works and her post, especially the comments. I wish she would write more, because her ability to paint a picture and evoke emotion is so unmatched.

[nerd-cat-rambles]

RAMBLE TIME YAY!!!

Bro I genuinely give up on reasoning with my parents at this point, especially my mum. I don't need phone time, and we've had it for two years and it isn't working, you get mad at me every time I "break a rule" but it's just finding loopholes because I'm done with this shit. Like I don't want to talk about my phone usage at the moment, I don't care what limits you give me because at the end of the day if I use an app for more than 20 minutes a day you're putting on a limit. Just because I don't want to talk about it right now doesn't give you the right to put settings on all of my apps and lock my phone as soon as you're not happy with how I reply.

I don't care about it. I don't actually fucking care about the limits, I could not care less. I know I'll find loopholes anyway, like I always do. I have three different ways to get onto tumblr even if you block it on my phone, excluding my laptop. I can just use google and go on the web version of most apps, and if you block or time limit google I can just use the internet app to browser search for it. Block that too? I have the password.

My mum says that she's tired of "micro managing" me but she gives me no freedom, and any room to move that she gives me is overshadowed by "I don't trust you enough to let you do that".

It's so difficult trying to reason with parents, especially a TEACHER parent, who thinks that just because she's in the education industry, that she knows best and is automatically correct in any assumptions she makes.

I honestly hate it.

She locked my phone for no reason just now, because I didn't want to TALK about my phonetime while I was doing something else! I ask her to talk about loosening the restrictions and rules and she says "after this, after this, no I don't feel like it." but she's not giving me a chance to do the same?

And don't get me started on when she thinks I'm FAKING my WORRIES because of the INTERNET! I came to her super worried and upset because she's my mum, parents know everything they just have to always be there and usually they are. And I told her I was worried something was wrong with me, and she doesn't reassure me and say "no this is normal blah blah blah" she tells me I go through phases of reading something online and then "developing symptoms" and faking it.

Like I was 11 the last time I did something like that, and I regret it so much I actually cry every time I think about it, second-hand embarassment exists don't be stupid as a kid.

And like... then she follows up with "if you want to see a therapist we can book you in for one" ... now that you tell me you think I'm faking you want me to make you "waste money" on a therapist. You said my problems are non-existent and put me through this spiral of denial and confusion just to tell me "oh by the way, if they're not then we can see somebody about this issue! :D"

I don't WANT to anymore.

Like literally yesterday I waited for 30 minutes for food and was too scared to ask if they were preparing it. (AT A BBQ GUYS, A FRICKING BBQ!) LIKE I ALMOST CRIED WHILE ASKING?? And I'm legitimately the most extroverted person on the planet.

I've been taking mild stress medication every day before school, and I've been taking tablets to sleep every now and then. BECAUSE I BELIEVE SOMETHING MAY BE WRONG WITH ME!!! And if you can't support me when I THINK that, then how are you going to go if something really does happen?!

Idk bro maybe I'm overthinking all of this but I just can't anymore with this.

[groovygrub]

heyyy folks!!! as promised, a brief(...ish) explanation of what's been going down:

so we had ourselves a bit of a ~tornadic thunderstorm~ almost a week ago; apparently FOUR lil twisters touched down in our area and several were visible from our driveway?!! – tragically, i didn't get to actually see the tornados because i was tripping too hard (here's some common sense disguised as a fun fact! if you consume 16x a "microdose" of shrooms, especially combined with other edibles, the dose isn't so micro anymore!! that shit had me macro-ed, dude 😩 learn from my mistakes!) and also didn't expect any visible touchdown from our house :((( i cried when i found out i missed out on the nados, ngl.

anyway, the majority of the city lost all power and my house just got it back last night! we still got some live wires ⚡ hanging in our yard so it's cordoned off but hopefully they'll fix that soon because i really gotta go foraging soon & would prefer not to get yelled at and/or zippity zapped. i'm already getting zippity zapped enough by my own brain, you know??

while on the topic of brain zaps!! the extreme heat & humidity and stress (and without any AC, air purifier, very little water, etc) has been... less-than-compatible with my chronic health shit (especially my seizures, POTS, EDS, mast cell disease, and migraines) 😅 i've had 5+ (?) episodes over the past week and they're still periodically making little cameos 🥲

definitely one of the worst clusters i've had yet tbh. after the initial seizure, i couldn't really move & was just chilling there and my broke-ass brain very helpfully kept supplying me with nothing but the thought "damn, bro got prone" (i would make a great doctor, i know). and then i started sobbing because my CNS was too afk to go grab a drink and seizures always make me sooo goddamn thirsty for some reason & i was already so dehydrated 💀

and i didn't even get to see any nados!!!! like!!! that's so twisted, dude (pun really not even intended, just slipped out, whoops). "fucked up" doesn't even begin to describe it. absolutely gargantuan L for me :((( an elephantine L, a BROBDINGNAGIAN L, if you will. feels like i just got hoodwinked by the cosmos.

anyhowsies. i set forth with the intention of just letting y'all know why i've been playing tumblr hooky (oh!! and in the days immediately leading up to the power outage, i was just busy being helplessly in love. still am, don't have any plans of stopping ❤️✨ but i'm also trying to be more present again for my beloved little army of weirdos!) and to say sorry for the delay in memes 😕 so idk how it turned into this mess, my b!

i'm slowly working through my notifications too!! just takes some extra time to process things when Brain is rebooting (and Brain has to fully reboot every time i have an episode 🙄 dramatic ass lil bitch). thank you so much for all your patience, birds & bees (new inclusive alternative to "ladies & gentlemen" just dropped!) 💛

ps to my wonderful moot who said they were queueing one of my memes for last monday: if you're reading this, please know i didn't forget about you or your post!! i WILL get to it, promise! 🙏

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

what do you think about those people who act like sexuality is subjective or fluid or more based on gender and ideas than biology? I keep seeing random gays from my city posting on twitter about how they ended up sleeping with a girl in a threesome after trying trans men and celebrating it as exploring and being open. I have to admit it makes me insecure i guess as a masculine man not interested in women at all who heard the same shit at my bad church. It just feels weird to see gay people just not being gay anymore...? Idk what to think.

I think a lot of people got together and decided to ignore that bisexuality is a thing so they could invent fake sexualities and micro-identities. The only things you can be are gay (only attracted to your own gender), straight (only attracted to the opposite gender) and bisexual (attracted to both genders). Asexuality is not a sexuality. Everything else is just some shade of one of those three things.

"Gay" guys discovering that they're bi late in life is no different than "straight" guys discovering the same thing. The "transman to woman" pipeline is no different than the "femboy trap to man" pipeline. It's just different ways for people to discover that they're actually bisexual.

[chimeramoth]

man :( i can't eat shredded wheat anymore fr. my tummy just doesn't know how to digest it anymore. i used to eat a big bowl of shredded wheat cereal for breakfast and id be fine but now like 5 pieces will act like a laxative to me. ive experimented this hypothesis 3 times in the last couple weeks and all have proven true. i wonder what part of the food im sensitive to, bc idk if it would be the gluten. i can eat other bread stuff just fine. well, on the bright side, i could try eating just one or two of these wheat squares as a micro laxative as needed.

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

One thing I rarely hear brought up in the pitbull debate is the idea of making them legal to own, but only if spayed or neutered. Breeding bully mixes is the act that should be restricted, not owning them. I feel like both sides can agree on these two points:

1) Pitbulls/Bully mixes are not suitable for every home

Bully mixes are big strong dogs with a terriers drive and stubbornness. In inexperienced hands, this is a recipe for disaster. Even if their agressiveness towards humans is highly overblown, they're still more likely to be dog aggressive than many other breeds, and pretending that they're not just puts others people's pets at risk. Are they the only aggressive breed? Of course not, but you don't hear the Belgian Malinois people saying that they're easy going, low maintenance family dogs. A properly trained and socialized bully can be a wonderful family pet, great with everyone, dogs and cats included. But an improperly raised one can easily become 50lbs of muscle and teeth yanking the lead and hurling itself towards Granny and her little white maltishizpoo, and that's not going to turn out well for anyone. While it's true that every dog is a big commitment, and any dog can turn out aggressive, ignoring the unique challenges you face training a bully breed is just going to end up hurting the breed's reputation in the long run. 

2) There are more bully mixes in the US than homes that want them.

It's no secret that US shelters have more bully mixes than basically any other type of dog, and these dogs are much more likely to put down than other breeds. I believe ethically breeding dogs is a good thing, as not every home is right for every dog, and there's nothing wrong with wanting a dog with predictable traits (as long as you do your due diligence to find a breeder who health tests the parents, and maybe don't pick one of the breeds that are genetic hot messes, but I digress). However, I don't see how it's possible for anyone to ethically breed bully type dogs while you can walk into basically any shelter in the US and have your pick. This includes bully puppies too, at least in my area, so you can't even make the "starting from a blank slate" argument. 

Idk, to me this seems like a solution both sides should be able to agree on. Yes, it sucks that irresponsible people are ruining a good breed (though tbh the breeders are already doing that themselves, just google micro bully or XL bully to see the extremes these dogs are being deliberately bred too). People who want the drive of a terrier can seek out one of the many other midsized terrier breeds. People who just want a family pet will start finding actual lab mixes in the shelter, as opposed to bringing home bully mixes that may be more dog than they're prepared for. 

If there are arguments against making breeding bully type dogs illegal (apart from the dumb "well you can't enforce it 100% so why even bother" type stuff), I genuinely would love to hear them. I don't have anything against the people who love bullies and who adopt those dogs from shelters, y'all are doing a good thing

(Also, shelters who refuse to euthanize aggressive dogs and in general lie to cover up dogs' issues: you're making the problem so much worse. Maybe people would be more willing to adopt bully mixes if there weren't so many stories of people adopting a dog only to end up with a dog with issues they can't handle)

Man I’m fully just answering this ask to get it out of my inbox because I’m sick of having to scroll by it when I’m looking for something.

Just because there isn’t a character limit in asks anymore doesn’t mean there’s not a limit to how much you can plague me with before I simply don’t read it. I still haven’t read more than two sentences of this and I don’t intend to because yes there should be regulations on who can breed ANY dog breed in the interest of ensuring ethical practice is followed, no this doesn’t make sense to just apply to one type of dog because “it’s not good for every home” that’s such a non-argument because most working breeds are also not good for every home.

[attempted--eloquence]

i am so in love with ur brain i just want to eat it. reading ur writing made me completely 180 my style and figure out how to try and translate poetry into narratives without it sounding terrible. ur my niche micro celeb i hope u know.

also can we hear more about the wrestling thing i have been curious about that for weeks

This is so sweet and encouraging I just ah!🫶🏾🥹💓

I’ve been struggling hardcore with writers block on and off this whole year and just like…….feeling like idk how tf to write anymore so this is very much appreciated🫣 wishing you endless inspiration in your own writing journey too!! <333 mwah!

And omfg ok wrestling. So. Yeah I love pro wrestling sm and have watched WWE since I was a kid. I made a fan blog and started writing WWE fanfiction with my best friend in high school (which is why my ao3 username is ringsiderage and attempted eloquence is just a pseud lol) and yeah!! It’s got violence, it’s got drama, it’s got sexy people, it’s got complex storylines and character development and it’s fun! I spent a couple years actually training to be a wrestler and I’ve been lowkey yearning to pick that up again but I do value the structural integrity of my brain in the long run…….but yah that’s wrestling babey

[idsb]

the only way I can see her demand not going down is the fact that the children love her, and by the next time she tours, which I’m just assuming is gonna be a few years, they are going to be older and more of them are gonna wanna go.

yeah see that's what's interesting to me!!! The Taylor nights I do now are only selling out and doing as well as they did around Red TV time through early Eras Tour when they're all ages - and for those AA ones, they're ALL small children. Children love her, and their moms who are very OG swifties love her, and yeah elsewhere she feels like a pair of skinny jeans in 2019. Still reliably good, but the micro trend people are starting to be like 'eeehhhhh idk if this is it anymore' and dipping their toes out, lol.

That said, I also think that by the time those children grow up, she might just be like 'damn I was OBSESSED with Taylor Swift when I was a kid ha ha'. Like, I was "obsessed" with Britney Spears when I was 6 but I don't actually remember anything about that and (everything else aside) by the time I was 13 I had no care or desire to see her after that, and I think that's something a lot of people - not all - can relate to.

This makes it sound like I think she's way on the downhill more than I actually do because of how much I'm micro-analyzing it, because her Beatle-like popularity is unmatched. but yeah I don't think she's got THE hype with Gen Z anymore; she's not the thing of the moment. To that regard the culture has kind of moved on to the next hyper fixation.